


Deserving

by besanii



Series: Cheese Platter [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Enjolras is his devoted person, Fluff, M/M, Mornings, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, grantaire is a writer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1321861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/besanii/pseuds/besanii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras kisses his collarbone and buries his face in the crook of his neck with a happy sigh.  "Read to me, Grantaire?"</p>
<p>"Bossy," Grantaire says fondly.  He reaches with his free arm over to the bedside table, fumbling for his glasses and slipping them on.  He then grabs the notepad underneath them.  "Don’t say I didn’t warn you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deserving

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a gif prompt on tumblr [HERE](http://besanii.tumblr.com/post/79358397316/sorry-i-cant-send-you-this-openly-i-deleted-my). Just a quick cuddling fic that is altogether too fluffy and fuzzy for its own good.

The sun is warm on his back and he stretches, luxuriating in the feel of the soft sheets on naked skin.  He hears a chuckle from the other side of the room and turns around to see Grantaire leaning against the bathroom door, dressed in his bathrobe.

"What are you doing all the way over there?" he mumbles, wrapping the sheets around himself and burrowing into the pillows.  "S’too early to be up."

"I got some writing done," Grantaire says.  He makes his way over to the bed slowly, easing himself onto the mattress next to Enjolras.  "Who knew mornings could be so productive?"

He leans against the headboard with a satisfied groan.  Enjolras twists and squirms his way under the curve of Grantaire’s arm until his head is resting on his shoulder, one arm thrown around his torso.  Grantaire chuckles again and wraps an arm around Enjolras’ bare shoulders.  His thumb idly strokes the warm skin beneath his fingers.

"Read me some?" Enjolras asks, pressing the words into Grantaire’s chest with his lips.  "I love your writing."

Grantaire shakes his head.  ”It’s not finished yet.”

"Doesn’t matter – I’d love it anyway."  Enjolras kisses his collarbone and buries his face in the crook of his neck with a happy sigh.  "Read to me, Grantaire?"

"Bossy," Grantaire says fondly.  He reaches with his free arm over to the bedside table, fumbling for his glasses and slipping them on.  He then grabs the notepad underneath them.  "Don’t say I didn’t warn you."

Enjolras has always liked the sound of Grantaire’s voice.  Even before they had started dating, Enjolras would go to his book and poetry readings just to hear Grantaire speak, or listen to him read, the musical cadence of his tones and words lulling him into complete and utter relaxation.  He closes his eyes as Grantaire tells him a story of a boy who dreams of being a writer, who writes a novel about his one true love and whose own lover does not live to see his work come to fruition.

"That’s sad," Enjolras says, after he finishes.  A frown creases his otherwise smooth brow.  Grantaire shrugs.

"It’s realistic," he says.

Enjolras props himself up on one elbow to look into Grantaire’s eyes with a suddenly serious expression.

"I hope this isn’t what you think about yourself and your own work."

"I can’t say it isn’t."

Enjolras’ face takes on a brief, sad expression before lighting up with determination.  He leans forward, pressing kisses to Grantaire’s cheeks, his forehead, nose, chin and ears, cupping his jaw to keep him close.  He leaves a last, lingering kiss on his lips, as sweet as honey, and pulls away.  His gaze is soft, and Grantaire’s heart swells with affection.

"You are wonderful," Enjolras says.  "You are an amazing writer – and people will recognise this, just you wait and see."

Grantaire reaches to stroke Enjolras’ cheek reverently.

"What did I do to deserve you," he wonders.  Enjolras turns his head to press a warm kiss on the centre of his palm.

"You didn’t have to do anything," he says.

He lets Grantaire pull him down for a kiss, slow and languid, and feels Grantaire’s words burn into his lips.

"I love you."

He brushes Grantaire’s nose with his gently and settles back against his shoulder with a contented sigh.

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://besanii.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
